


Wherein Mycroft and Lestrade have a whole bunch of children whose names should be familiar to you

by s0mmerspr0ssen



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-10
Updated: 2011-09-10
Packaged: 2017-10-23 16:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/252424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s0mmerspr0ssen/pseuds/s0mmerspr0ssen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somebody on the meme once asked for Lestrade to be everybody's daddy - well. Here you go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wherein Mycroft and Lestrade have a whole bunch of children whose names should be familiar to you

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't take this seriously, hehe.

Sometimes, only on rare occasions, Greg Lestrade regretted chucking his job at Scotland Yard in favour of being a stay-at-home dad.

 _This_ was one of those moments.

"He _hit_ me, Daddy", wailed Andy, clutching Lestrade's leg as if his life depended on it. "He _hit me_."

With tears in his eyes, the four-year-old was pointing at his brother Sherlock who had followed Andy into the living room but seemed rather bored, watching the wailing toddler with an impassive gaze.

"Sherlock?" Lestrade demanded and sighed, exasperation clearly evident in his voice as he picked up Andy and allowed him to hold on to his neck.

"He stained John's homework with those horrible crayons you bought him for his birthday. It only seemed fair to punish him. John has been working on his assignment for nearly two hours and will have to start all over again. Surely you agree that Andy was in the wrong?"

Lestrade closed his eyes briefly. How a twelve-year-old boy could sound like an infuriatingly smug, overbearing adult was truly beyond him. Whoever his biological father had been, he surely must have been a politician.

"Sherlock, he's _just a child_ -"

" _Not_ a child!" wailed Andy, trashing a bit in Lestrade's arms who very nearly dropped him in surprise.

"A _boy_ ", he continued, hugging Andy a bit closer. "I'm sure he didn't meant to ruin John's assignment. In any case, you don't hit your younger siblings. _Any_ of your siblings, in fact."

"He was just trying to help, Sherlock", came a tentative voice from the door.

Lestrade looked over to where John was standing, clutching some papers to his chest. Lestrade would never admit it but most of the times, John was his favourite. The boy was the oldest of five and readily took on responsibility, helping his younger siblings and parents respectively.

 _He's a fighter, but he has a kind heart,_ his teacher had once said to Lestrade at a parents' evening. Lestrade couldn't agree more.

"How can you be so calm about this?" Sherlock spoke up, all but glaring at John.

John was the only sibling Sherlock truly connected to. The younger ones simply weren't interesting (or maybe smart) enough, it seemed.

"It happened, arguing about it won't change it", John said in that _be-reasonable-now_ tone he liked to use with Sherlock and shrugged. "Most of the pages aren't ruined. I can just re-write the ones Andy drew on."

Wiggling in Lestrade's arms, Andy turned his head so he could look at John, face smudged with tears and snot.

"'m sorry!" he sniveled.

John came over, picking up the box of tissues from the coffee table on his way to grab a few hankies. He came to stand in front of Lestrade, sending him a brief smile before focusing all of his attention on his younger brother.

"It's okay", he soothed him, carefully cleaning his face with the tissues. "If the assignment was about dinosaurs I'd just keep it this way. However, I don't think Miss Lloyd will be happy to see a Tyrannosaurus next to an essay on farm animals. Now, blow!"

Andy noisily cleaned his nose into the provided tissue. Lestrade spotted the look of disgust on Sherlock's face over Andy's head and arched his eyebrows at him, sending him a silent message of _You were once a toddler yourself_.

At that moment, a high screech and loud clattering came from the kitchen. Sally. _Of course_.

"Do you mind holding him?" Lestrade asked John who shook his head, got rid of the tissues and accepted the toddler who all but snuggled up to his older brother.

Hurrying into the kitchen, Lestrade spotted Sally, the only girl of their excited bunch, in an array of pots and pans, dark curls in one unruly mess on her head. The lopsided kitchen stool was lying next to her on the ground.

"Sorry, dad", she giggled.

So no serious injuries then. Nevertheless, Lestrade crouched down in front of her, brushing his thumb over the girl's cheek.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, but Sally just grinned and shook her head.

"Nope. Just lost my balance. But I got what I was looking for."

She held up an egg whisk and carefully stood.

"Do I want to know what you need that thing for?" Lestrade groaned, still crouching.

Sally giggled again, bowing down to place a noisy, wet kiss on her father's cheek.

"No-ho", she laughed and ran off, curls bouncing up and down, bare feet slapping against the kitchen tiles.

"Do you need any help with that?"

John had followed Lestrade intro the kitchen, nodding towards the mess that was their kitchen floor and carrying little Andy safely on his hip. John would make a marvellous father one day, Lestrade was sure of it.

"No, no, just go back to your homework. It's four o'clock already and I'd hate to see you still do your schoolwork after dinner."

John nodded hesitantly when Andy started to wiggle in his grip.

"I wanna help!" he exclaimed and John assisted him in sliding off his hip and onto the floor.

With quick but slightly awkward steps, Andy walked over to Lestrade, once more grabbing his leg for support. Lestrade briefly stroked over the soft, brown hair on his head.

"Of course you may help", he told him.

Obviously, Andy was more of a nuisance than actual help but Lestrade didn't mind so much. No matter how exhausting these children could be, he did love all of them.

They had just finished tidying the kitchen when a high-pitched wail came from upstairs.

"Jimmy is awaaaake", Andy exclaimed with a grimace, in an equally ear-piercing pitch.

"Yes, yes, I know", Lestrade soothed him. "Why don't you go and see what Sally is doing, hm?"

Leaving him to walk the short distance on his own wobbly legs, Lestrade jogged upstairs and into the nursery where a baby was screaming in the crib.

"Shhh, Jim, calm down", he cooed and picked up the red-faced baby, cradling and swaying him a bit. "Shh, daddy is here."

As the wail slowly subsided, the door chime sounded through the house. With a sigh, Lestrade wrapped little Jim up in his soft, warm blanket and carried him with him downstairs and to the door.

"Mycroft", he exclaimed upon opening it.

His husband was standing right in front of him, all three-piece suit and affectionate smile. The man gave Lestrade a soft kiss on the cheek as a greeting, then placed a peck on Jim's pink forehead.

"I managed to get out of work early with some re-scheduling. Any chance you will actually let me into our home?"

Realizing he had been blocking the entrance, Lestrade hurried to make room and close the door.

"Shouldn't Jim be napping?" Mycroft asked, removing his jacket and waistcoat and placing it over a chair near the entrance.

"He should", Lestrade agreed, looking down at the baby in his hands with a scowl, but unable to hide the fondness in his voice. "I swear, he's evil."

Mycroft chuckled but didn't have time to reply.

"Papa!"

Sherlock and John, no doubt having heard the door bell, had come to greet their other father. After two years, they had finally overcome their initial shyness with their rather awe-inspiring adoptive papa and while Sherlock had never been the type to touch people in affection, John hugged his father hello.

"I didn't know you were coming tonight", Sherlock told him. "Did you bring those statistics I asked you about?"

"Yes, I did", Mycroft said, pointing at his briefcase that he had placed by the chair. "You can have them _after_ Mrs Hudson has made you all dinner. Don't try, you won't be able to crack the code."

"Mrs Hudson?" Lestrade asked confused, ignoring Sherlock's disappointed mumbling. "She's still on holiday, Mycroft."

"She returned a day early and is willing to do some baby-sitting tonight so _we_ can go out", said Mycroft, gesturing between Lestrade and himself.

All of the build-up tension of this rather stressful day seemed to melt away at the promise of a quiet night out with Mycroft. As much as Lestrade loved their crazy bunch of adopted children, he would also love to get away from them, at least for a few hours.

"I think I love you", he said and Mycroft's answering smile was very bright.

"I love you, too."

 

When they returned late at night, full of very good food and wine, the house was pleasantly, almost unnaturally silent.

"Bedroom?" Mycroft murmured into Lestrade's right ear, helping his husband out of his jacket.

"Mhm." He nodded and accepted a kiss before wiggling free of Mycroft's hold. "Just let me check on the children, okay?"

Mycroft chuckled.

"You can't leave them alone for more than a few hours, can you?"

He sounded fond and affectionate and not at all annoyed. Lestrade simply loved him more for it. He tip-toed into Andy's and Sally's joined room first but found the beds empty. Surprised but not too worried, he checked Sherlock's and John's room. He smiled at the picture.

John, curled up in his bed, had been joined by both Andy and Sally who had snuggled up to their brother like two cats might have. Sherlock was sitting on his bed, alone, bed-side lamp switched on, whatever documents Mycroft had brought him in his hands. Lestrade immediately realised that he had positioned himself so he could watch his siblings every once in a while whilst reading.

"You should be in bed", Lestrade whispered, pointing at him.

Sherlock actually smiled and put away his reading.

"Just waiting for you to come home", he whispered back. "Can't have them unsupervised, can we? Mrs Hudson has fallen asleep in the living room an hour ago."

Lestrade stifled a laugh and waited until Sherlock had settled down, too, and switched off his lamp.

"Good night", he whispered into the darkness and closed the door.

Walking towards Mycroft's and his bedroom with a brief check-up on once more sleeping Jimmy, Lestrade couldn't feel anything but contentment.

Really, chucking his job at Scotland Yard in favour of being a stay-at-home dad wasn't really much of a sacrifice if that meant he could have all this.  
____  
 _fin._


End file.
